


How may I serve you?

by lea_hazel



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Character Study, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Internal Monologue, Male Friendship, Missing Scene, Present Tense, Season/Series 03 Spoilers, Unreliable Narrator, Yuletide 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 22:22:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21822862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lea_hazel/pseuds/lea_hazel
Summary: All he needs is an opening, an opportunity.
Relationships: Aaravos & Viren (The Dragon Prince), Harrow & Viren (The Dragon Prince), Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: Yuletide 2019





	How may I serve you?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [smaragdbird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/gifts).



"She's gone, and now I'm alone." 

He felt responsible, at first. Sarai came back for him, gave her own life for his. Even though she had never liked him. Even though they held opposite views on almost every matter of state, and their advice to Harrow invariably conflicted. Even though she hadn't wanted to ride to Xadia in the first place. She didn't want to be there, but she would stay by Harrow's side and support him, whether she agreed with his decisions or not. After Sarai's death, Viren took her last actions as his inspiration, and he had no qualms about saying as much to his king. 

"Get up." 

Harrow's anger, once so slow to rise, bubbled suddenly to the surface. " _Excuse_ me?" 

"Get up," Viren said, "and stop feeling sorry for yourself." 

"I'm _grieving_ , Viren," replied Harrow, scowling up at him. 

"No," said Viren patiently, "you're feeling sorry for yourself. Which is not something that you can afford to do. You have two children, and a kingdom to run." 

"Am I not allowed to take a moment for myself?" demanded Harrow in aggrieved tones. "Am I not allowed to mourn my wife in peace and quiet? Must the throne have that, too?" 

Always thinly veiled, his lingering bitterness at being forced to take the throne was rising to the surface. Harrow's temperament was not well-suited to kingship. This was a truth that everyone quietly knew, and no one acknowledged. Certainly Harrow himself knew it. Why else would be flank himself with Sarai and Viren himself as his closest advisors? As often as they clashed, Viren couldn't help but respect Sarai, for her quick wit, strength of character, and decisiveness. 

And without that strength of character by his side, Harrow was slowly coming unbalanced. He would have to lean on Viren more than ever, if he were to continue ruling a peaceful, prosperous Katolis. And it was Viren's responsibility to make certain that his king knew he was there for him, in this difficult time. 

Viren looked down at his king and sighed dramatically. "I didn't want to do this," he said, "but you've forced my hand." 

The anger cleared rapidly from Harrow's face, to be replaced by puzzlement. "Do what?" 

Viren pressed his hands together in supplication and asked, "What would Sarai think if she could see you now?" 

Harrow opened his mouth to reply, then closed it again. "I-- Viren, that's low, even for you." 

"And yet," he said, spreading out his palms, "I'm right." 

"Yes," said Harrow heavily, dragging himself to his feet. "Yes, you're right." 

* * *

In his prison cell, Viren has a lot of time to think. The voice of the Startouch Elf in his mind, so lately his constant companion, is silent. He is alone with his thoughts.

_How long I have waited to hear the sound of another voice._

Time is very long with no sun or stars to measure it by, and nothing but his own company for distraction. Harrow had once told him that solitary confinement is torture. Now, Viren can believe it. Now, he would like to tell Harrow that he was right, about that if nothing else. He would like to speak with anyone, anyone at all. Even Amaya's pathetic little interpreter would be welcome company, right now. Even Soren would be better conversation than repeating the same thoughts to himself, over and over, in an endless circle of anger and grief.

_Tell me what you need, and I will help you._

How novel to have someone to rely on, someone who bolsters him, instead of fighting against him tooth and nail. Someone who respects his intellect and his prowess, instead of constantly second-guessing him and shutting him down. Yet the voice of Aaravos in his ear is silent, and Viren doesn't know when -- _if_ \-- he will hear it again. Until the doors of his cell open, he remains as he was, betrayed and abandoned.

_How may I serve you?_

Viren well remembers Aaravos's words to him, on their first meeting. So ingratiating, so _helpful_ , so conscious of his place. He remembers, also, his promise. The voice in his ear is silent, but he is not alone. That is something to remind himself of, to focus his mind on, a better distraction than endlessly repeating old conversations in his mind. Why dwell on the past, when he can build a better future? Though he is thwarted, time and again, by the short-sighted, the greedy and the selfish, Viren believes he will triumph. If willpower alone won't be his victory, perhaps a touch of dark magic can help it along the way.

_They deserve to be motivated by fear._

To build a better future, a _powerful_ future. One where humanity can stand tall, instead of cowering on its knees. Be masters of their own fate, not servants to some scaled monster's arcane vision of natural justice. And now he knows for a certainty, where once he only suspected, that no one has the power or the vision to bring this future about, no one but him, Lord Viren, Archmage of Katolis.

_I need to be the man he once believed I was._

No, _King_ of Katolis. If there was any justice in the world, _he_ would be the one sitting on the throne, not Harrow's snot-nosed, jelly-fingered little brat, wherever he was. But as his father once told him, where justice cannot be found, great men must build it. If history has laid at his feet the mantle of becoming a great man, it would be foolish, arrogant even, to shrug it off. All he needs is an opening, an opportunity. All he needs is one man to see sense and back his cause, and even that sanctimonious, meddling Opeli would not be able to oppose him.

_Special. Better than everyone else. Above the laws of this kingdom._

Soon.

* * *

"I'm so sorry it's come to this." 

He's not, of course. How could he be? It was always going to come to this. A child can't sit on the throne of a great kingdom. Duren had learned as much when they lost their queens, and now Katolis would learn the same. Truly, he was the king that Katolis deserved, that all of humanity needed. 

"King Viren." 

The Prince of Neolandia meets him with a sweeping, respectful bow, but as he straightens up Viren catches sight of the smug smirk at the corner of his mouth. That one, he'll have to watch out for. 

"Ah, it just sounds right, doesn't it?" 

The silver specter of Aaravos at the corner of his eye is smiling, too, a smile as sharp as a knife. As sharp as his own. 

"Yes," he agrees. "Yes, it does." 

"I beg your pardon, Your Majesty?" asks the young prince. "Were you speaking to me?" 

Viren waves a hand at him dismissively. "Never you mind. What's the state of our armies?" 


End file.
